A Miscarriage and an Unexpected Turn of Events, part 1

***If you are faint of heart, this may not be a post for you. It contains frank and graphic descriptions of blood and loss. ***

February 2011

Up until last week, my family and I were happily anticipating the opportunity to announce the impending arrival of our third little one. We wanted to wait till I was a little further along to let everyone know – though close friends were aware of our news.

Miscarriage is not a word any family expecting a baby wants to hear. And, unfortunately, my news today is not the happy announcement I was planning.

This is a very personal story for me – and part of me wonders whether or not I want to write about it. But because so many people have expressed their love and concern and because so many have said that this is a silent pain that many women carry, I am going to open my heart and hope that you will treat it with tenderness.

Losing a child – at any stage – is terribly sad. It should not be something we carry silently. Women (and men and families) who have experienced it need a way to mark their loss and they need the support of loved ones and the hope of encouragement.

Last week, I shared that we had a long week of sick kids and restless nights. Thursday and Friday, I found myself encompassed by a powerful feeling of grief, accompanied by uncontrollable weeping. At the time I thought it was the long week – but Friday morning, it occurred to me that the baby might not be ok.

I pushed the thought aside and chalked it up to stress. In retrospect, I wonder if my body was not giving my spirit a little insight into what was coming. Saturday, I took the girls on a little hike just to get us out of the house and to give me a little perspective.

Sunday afternoon, I began spotting. I don’t believe the sick kids or long nights were the cause of this – but it does explain why I felt so absolutely exhausted. I grounded myself on the couch and Rob came home early from church to help me get the girls to bed.

Knowing that spotting in early pregnancy doesn’t always mean a miscarriage, I chose to rest and to talk to my baby. I expressed my love and deep desire to meet him or her and hoped for the best. But, as I continued to have light spotting Monday and Tuesday and the color changed from pink and brown to red, I found tears springing into my eyes more frequently and felt a certainty (that I tried to ignore) that the baby was saying goodbye.

My midwife came by to check on me Tuesday and sat with me for a while to make sure I was ok. She also let me know what to expect if I did miscarry. Rob and several of my sisters were present throughout the day and took the kids out for a few hours.

A few close friends kept in touch, knowing what was happening. Tuesday night, I spoke with a wise friend of mine, Lisa, who encouraged me to continue to rest and hope for the best but to call 911 if I began to bleed too much that night.

After visiting with Pam, Lisa and my family, I needed some time outside. I headed outside with the kids and lay on a blanket under my favorite pine tree. As I lay there, feeling the throbbing life beneath me, breathing in the piney scent and listening to my children squeal and giggle in play, the synergistic dance that life and death do seemed to swirl before my eyes.

I’ve sensed that swirling dance before. I may not have heard a voice state what was to come but I felt a profound sense of peace fill me.

Instead of racing to find an herb, a drug, a cure for this moment, I let go of my need to fix it and just settled into that moment. The pine scent, the cool earth, the laughter and the sorrow – were all part of it.

Then, I cradled my womb in my hands and told our baby, “We love you and want to meet you – but if you need to go, it’s ok. We will always be your mom and dad and we’ll see you again some day.”

We went back inside and I quietly made my way to bed, in peace.

A Miscarriage and an Unexpected Turn of Events, part 2.

The death of a pre-born baby can leave us feeling isolated. I shared my experience in the hopes that it will help other women know they aren’t alone. If you know someone who would be encouraged by this post, please share it.

Subscribe to Organic Mama Cafe. It is free and I won’t violate your privacy.